


Baby

by imagineagreatadventure



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1930s, Bringing Up Baby AU, F/M, Meet-Cute, ish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-12 10:17:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10488588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagineagreatadventure/pseuds/imagineagreatadventure
Summary: While trying to secure a $1 million donation for his museum, a flighty, vain researcher is pursued by an often irritating heir and her pet direwolf "Baby."aka the Bringing Up Baby Au you didn't know you wanted.





	1. The Direwolf and the Meet-Cute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They meet.

**_Prologue_ **

When her father told her that he planned to donate a million dragons to the Royal Naturalism Museum in King’s Landing, Brienne vaguely wondered if he had become senile.

She was reassured when he said he hadn’t lost his marbles, but then wondered why exactly he was donating so much money.

“Oh, Goodwin says it’s a good foundation,” he said, before asking her to hand him another steamed crab.

She handed it over without thinking - too focused on the thought that their family lawyer was the one deciding the fate of a million dragons. After all, Goodwin said that about any foundation that buttered him up.

With annoyance, as she really had much better things to do with her time, Brienne decided that it was time that she travel to King’s Landing herself, and decided to use her yacht to make her way there.

“You really shouldn’t go by yourself,” her father told her, but let it be, knowing that it was better not to argue with his headstrong daughter.

Which was good for she would do it anyhow.

A million dragons was a lot to lose to a con artist.

She left before sunrise, dressed in long, dark pants and a long-sleeved blouse, hoping to make it to King’s Landing a little before day ended. She was sure she’d make it in time since the winds were so favorable. She didn’t have much time to relax, though - being the sole soul on board made it difficult to get any reading done, she was too focused on not getting hit by the boom.

When the coast of King’s Landing became clear (the ages-old Mud Gate was the first thing she spotted) Brienne steered her boat towards the fashionable Fish Market district, where Galladon lived in a century-old brick townhouse. He wasn’t there now, he was almost never there - too busy traveling across the known world (he liked to boast in his letters) but Brienne had a key.

It helped that he also had a small dock in front of his stretch of the townhomes and since he didn’t have a boat... well, there was a nice empty space right for Brienne to sail into.

Weary from the day of sailing, Brienne grabbed the small bag she had brought with her and headed to the door, ignoring the stares of the passersby. None of them looked like her - the men were wearing nice, tailored suits with crooked fedora hats to match while the women’s dresses were covered with fur - winter had just left but spring was still yet to come.

Brienne tried to ignore the stares as well as the cold as she unlocked the door to Galladon’s place. It was dark, but warm and clean. It seemed the maid had recently come by despite Galladon’s absence. Brienne was grateful, she didn’t want to have to do more work while staying here. She headed up the stairs to the third floor, remembering that this is where Galladon liked to put her on the rare occasions she did visit him, turning on the lights as she went up. She hated being alone in a dark home.

But, when she opened the door, she realized she had never been alone at all.

* * *

**_Chapter One_ **

“Rhaegar believes that you can convince Mr. Goodwin that we are the museum for that million dragon donation,” Varys said, his hands moving so rapidly that for a moment it was as his hands were flies. “I know you hate this, but you can be so charming when you want to be.”

“So can you,” Jaime said. Varys waved him off, a pleased smile on his face.

“See, Mr. Lannister! _That_ is the charm we need for Mr. Goodwin. He’s an easy sell, I promise you, he likes to give out dragons like candy on the streets, we just need a little push and he’s all yours.”

Jaime ignored Varys as he continued to speak, deciding it was better to concentrate on the missing piece of the dragon display. The incomplete display of the ancient dragon haunted Jaime at night as much as it haunted him during the day. He stared at it now, wishing that Tyrion had agreed to convince their father to donate the desperately needed million dragons to the museum. If one of them had succeeded - then Jaime could have avoided this goddamn financial mess.

Instead, Tywin Lannister donated his million dragons to Cersei’s wedding to Robert Baratheon, a ghastly thing that needed more class and less money thrown at it.  

Varys knew all about this incident, _which,_ Jaime surmised, _was why_ **_I_ ** _was tasked with this mess. They want me to make up for my father’s mistakes._

It always came down to his father in the end. Tywin had never wanted Jaime to go down on this path at all - _Jaime_ hadn’t even wanted to be on this path of old, dusty dragon bones until he met Professor Dayne in college, who convinced him that he had the smarts to become a researcher. Jaime had never thought he’d end up working at a museum before then, he suspected he’d follow his father’s footsteps and die working at Lannister Corp - that’s what Tyrion did, after all.

Tyrion often proclaimed (quite loudly) that he was jealous of Jaime’s work with dragons and Jaime suspected his younger brother spoke the truth as Tyrion’s eyes would shine like a child’s anytime Jaime showed off one of the new finds.

“Mr. Lannister?” Varys tittered. “I will need you to meet with Mr. Goodwin tomorrow morning. He’ll be expecting you at the Baelor hotel - the original one.” When Jaime didn’t acknowledge this, Varys sighed. “I mean the one near the ruins of the old sept, the one that’s always covered in tourists.”

“I know which one you mean,” Jaime said, wishing Varys would just leave already.

At last it seemed as if the gods were answering prayers for Varys whisked himself away, probably going on to bother some other poor sap who worked for the museum. But Jaime felt sorrier for himself. Instead of being able to see the newest find from Meereen first thing in the morning, he was going to have to drag himself all the way to the Baelor Hotel.

The museum was more on the outskirts of King’s Landing then truly in it - buried in a sea of other like-minded museums and nearly all of them were full of the public’s eyes, which is why they really needed to put that dragon together.

_And why we need that million dragons._

* * *

It had been only a year since the stock market collapsed due to the ill management of some elite nitwits (her father’s language not hers) and Brienne could see evidence of the economic downturn everywhere she went. From children begging to grown men living in a city of boxes alongside the seashore - although she tried not to look too carefully, too anxious of what her gaze would bring.

She was dressed in woolen slacks that belonged to her brother - she had found them in his drawers, which was good since she did not bring enough clothes for a long stay. The top she wore was something she brought that Brienne was sure had belonged to her mother - a simple grey blouse with a sun embroidered on the pocket.

It had been strange to get dressed with a direwolf in the house - Brienne had never seen one in the flesh, only in illustrations and moving pictures, and was startled to find it in her brother’s house.

It didn’t seem startled to find her there, however, it barely growled before going back to its chew toy. Which was good. Brienne would not have been able to fight off a direwolf without a weapon - as strong as she was she could not do _that._

When she called her brother from the telephone he had - hoping beyond hope that he would answer at his other house in Sunspear - she reached his newest lover instead. “This is Pia,” the woman said.

“Is Galladon Tarth there? I’m afraid it’s an emergency.”

“Whosit that’s speaking?”

“His sister, Brienne. I’m at his home in King’s Landing and I’m afraid a wild animal got inside.”

The woman named Pia laughed. “That’s just Baby. She’s a sweet girl, don’t mind her. The maid should be filling her bowl regularly. And she don’t need walks - she’s just a babe.”

That did not look like a baby animal to her, but what did Brienne know of direwolves. “She’s domesticated?”

“I s’pose.”

As unhelpful as that answer was, Brienne did manage to find out where the food was as well as her brother’s location. He was taking the a boat back to King’s Landing and should be back within the week.  

Which was good because she was now desperately wanting to ask him why in the seven hells he had a domesticated direwolf in his townhome.

 _A domesticated direwolf named_ **_Baby._ **

Brienne would have mulled over this curious name more if she had not seen Goodwin out of the corner of her eye near the ruins of Old Baelor talking to some ridiculously handsome man with a mane of golden hair. _He looks like a lion_ , she marveled but tried to not to show it on her face as she approached them both, dodging tourists as she did so, hoping her expression was stern.

“Goodwin!” she barked and he jumped. 

“Goodness me, Brienne? What a surprise - do you know Jaime Lannister? He works for the museum and, you see, he has asked me to supply him with a million dragons for their new exhibit -”

Brienne blinked down at the smiling rogue before her. A million dragons? For only one exhibit? _Was he insane?_ “Are you insane?” she asked the so-called Jaime Lannister, feeling as though that couldn’t be his name. Lannisters were rich - they didn’t need a million dragons for a museum exhibit.

He smirked at her. “Not to my knowledge,” he replied cheekily.

She hated his smirk. It was too charming for such a vile expression. “I suggest you consult a physician.”

“Perhaps if your friend here supplies me with a -”

“Oh!” Goodwin interrupted, smiling apologetically at Jaime Lannister. “I’m sorry if you misunderstood, Mr. Lannister, but I am only the counsel to Miss Tarth’s father, who is looking to donate some portion of his investments to a worthy institute, specifically, well, hopefully, your wealthy institute.”

Jaime’s smirk turned into a dastardly smile. It looked almost genuine. “Oh, I completely understand.” _Like hell you do,_ Brienne thought. “I will make sure I speak to both you Miss Tarth and-”

“Oh no you will not,” she said before Goodwin apologized again.

“No, no, no, neither of you understand,” he tutted. “I’m bringing, well, applicants of a sort to Mr. Tarth’s attention and he shall decide who to donate the funds to. Miss Tarth has no part in the process.”

Brienne took a breath. “My father knows I’m here.”

“Does he? That’s nice,” Goodwin said.

“He does and he needs to know that his money is going to a worthy place!”

“I think you mean, you need to know,” Jaime Lannister said, not even bothering to say it under his breath. Brienne glared at him and he rolled his eyes back at her.

It was startling to see how much green one person’s eyes could be. She had never seen so much green. “I do need to know! Goodwin, you’ve donated to unworthy institutes before! Remember the Baelish Foundation?”

Goodwin had the decency to blush. “Ah yes, well -”

“I can list others so please don’t look for excuses.”

Jaime laughed. “Isn’t that the charitable foundation that was found supplying politicians with underage prostitutes who were also lobbying for corporations?”

Brienne ignored him. “Please, Goodwin, let me investigate this museum. I must see it for myself.”

Goodwin looked torn and she almost felt terrible about bringing up the Baelish Foundation but... “Oh, all right,” he agreed. “I’ll go back to your Father’s home, I’ll find a way to take the train or something. Seven hells girl you are determined.”

Brienne smiled. “You taught me that much.”

Goodwin harrumphed but she could tell she pleased him because he had a small smile on his face as he hugged her goodbye.

Jaime did not. “I was this close to closing the deal,” he hissed.

“And now you’ll have to convince me instead,” she said. She felt like rejoicing. “And I can assure you, I’ll be looking at other prospects for the million dragons. There are many people suffering in this city and I would like to help them.”

“We do help them!” Jaime protested, but Brienne wasn’t in the mood to listen.

“Meet me at the restaurant in that hotel,” she said, pointing at the hotel Goodwin entered moments ago. “Around seven.”

Jaime peered at her. “You know they require dresses there,” he said, pointedly looking at her slacks.

She hated that she flushed. “I have a dress,” she lied.

“Now that I’d pay a million dragons to see.”

"Too bad you don't have a million dragons."

"Yet."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how long this is going to end up being, or when the next update is, but I wanted to get the 'meet-cute' part in before meet-cute march ended in a few days. I've been working on this for a while and wrote about three different drafts/outlines for it but only this one seemed to want to even vaguely work!


	2. The Dress and the Drink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter so sorry about that (and sorry about the wait!), but I hope you enjoy it anyways.

**_Chapter Two_ **

Jaime was surprised to find the hotel bustling when he arrived. The economy had been in such bad shape that most of the fancy hotels had been eliminated from the market - but not this one. It helped that it retained the beauty of Danaerysan times - the Old Dragon Queen’s mark was everywhere here. After all, it was built for one of her lovers to live in. There were even rumors of a tunnel underneath the hotel that led to the Red Keep, rumors that caused the hotel security to chase after tourists looking for the ancient tunnel.

Jaime wondered if they should focus on advertising the museum in the hotel. There were so many people wining and dining - but, he reminded himself, Varys handled that aspect. None of that had anything to do with Jaime.

He handed his coat and fedora to the coat-check with a disarming smile and found his way to the bar, hoping that a drink would help ease his temper. He would have to be as charming as Varys alleged he was if he was to get the girl to give him a million dragons.

A man was singing deeply into a microphone about lost loves in the front of the room while his band, a motley crew, played their instruments behind him. Jaime watched for a moment, observing that most hotel patrons were paying more attention to their dinner and their drinks then the band, and then went looking for Miss Tarth.

The girl, if she could be called that - she looked more man than woman, was already at the bar making awkward conversation with the bartender if her scowl was any indication. Jaime bit his lip to keep from grinning. She looked absolutely awful in a dress. Especially a pink dress. 

Somehow, she sensed his staring and spun around on the bar stool, her blue eyes flashing.

Her eyes reminded Jaime of the sea outside. _Tempestuous._ “You’re late,” she said, her scowl deepening.

He shrugged and took a seat. “By about ten minutes.”

“Late is late,” she reprimanded, turning back towards the bar.

He made a face when he knew she wasn’t looking. He could tell she wanted to jump right into _“No I’m not giving you any money”_ so he decided to order the strongest drink he could think of - Wildling Whiskey.

Brienne raised an eyebrow at his order. “Are you trying to get drunk?”

“Yes.”

She didn’t seem surprised or alarmed by this response, merely annoyed. “And this is exactly why I can’t give you money. People are starving on the streets and yet you sit here ordering drinks -”

“To stave off the sound of your yattering,” he said, “and I’m sure any one of those men or women outside would do the same in my shoes.”

Jaime could feel the press of her glare and was grateful when the bartender handed him the drink without delay. The cool drink was a soothing balm to her heated looks and the dreadful lovesick music that filled the air. “What exactly do you want me to say?” he asked her, when the drink loosened his tongue. “We need the money. We do good work. Haven’t you been to our museum?”

“No.”

He put his head in his hands and groaned.

“I’m usually on Tarth,” she said, sounding defensive. “I’m only staying at my brother’s now, to make sure the money goes to the right place.”

“Why isn’t your brother doing that?”

She didn’t answer him - he wasn’t sure if she was ignoring him or didn’t hear it. “So,” she said, surprising him, “what is your pitch exactly?”

“My... _pitch_?”

She sighed. “Why am I supposed to support my father giving his money away to this one exhibit?”

“We need it.”

“So does everyone else.”

He watched her order a drink. She wasn’t pretty... this _girl_. She had to be at least half a decade younger than him though - perhaps more. In another life, perhaps she was a warrior maid - Tarth was known for its heroic women. There were legends written about anonymous warrior maids and many of them were from Tarth.

If she was a warrior maid, it’d explain the muscles in her arms. The girl looked strong enough to knock a grown man out on his rear if she wanted to.

“What is it?” she asked, her voice sharp. “Why are you staring?”

“Do you always ask men why they stare?” He smiled, trying to make her laugh. “If you do, this might be why you have no ring on your hand.”

The drink was in his face within a moment and she stalked away, almost looking beautiful in her defiance, her long dress swaying behind her. He almost went after her but _something_ stopped him. Perhaps it was her eyes - judgemental and honest.

“You’re an idiot,” the bartender said as he handed Jaime a napkin and Jaime had to agree.

He was an idiot.

* * *

“I bought this stupid dress and he didn’t even try to sell me on why the museum needed the money!” Brienne complained to a very tired direwolf, who wagged her tail when Brienne entered Galladon’s house. She changed quickly into slacks and a blouse and gave Baby a treat.

Baby had grown on her over the course of the afternoon. Perhaps it was her silent companionship that suited Brienne. Perhaps it was the fact she had never been allowed to have a pet of her own before and now this wild animal was giving her unconditional love and support as she ranted and raved about a man she despised.

Or perhaps it was because Baby was actually quite adorable.

Brienne had a soft spot for pretty things. She suspected it was because she wasn’t so pretty herself. “He’s _quite_ annoying, you know,” she told Baby, feeling the need to speak out loud. “I’m not sure what to do about it all - I can’t imagine any museum needs a million dragons but Goodwin did mention that it would be the first completed skeleton of a dragon...”

Dragons were something that had always fascinated her - they sounded so far-fetched but were real and had changed the course of history multiple times. Gone forever now, removed from the world because of an ice age so terrible that stories liked to say the dead walked the earth with flashing blue eyes.

Someone once called her a White Walker when she was a child - sometimes when she thought of it, the insult still stung.

Brienne winced as she looked at herself in the mirror, wondering why she thought it was a good idea to meet a ridiculously handsome, conniving man who wanted her father’s money at a bar in a dress. She wasn’t made for dresses.

Baby sensed her discomfort and nosed Brienne’s arm. “Do you need to go outside?” Brienne asked, tired. Baby almost seemed to nod and Brienne smiled. “Good girl.”

Before Brienne could open the door, however, two knocks occurred. One soft, the other sharp. Brienne looked at Baby. Baby looked at her.

Sighing, Brienne opened the door to find Jaime Lannister behind it, his eyes widening at the sight of Baby, who barked at his appearance. Brienne grabbed Baby’s collar just in case and glared at Jaime. “What do you want?”

“Uh...” he trailed off, dismayed. “What is that.”

“Baby,” she said.

Jaime blinked. “What? A direwolf named Baby? You named this ferocious thing _Baby_?”

She pushed the direwolf aside with ease and quickly closed the door behind her so Baby couldn’t get out. It was cold out, she noted, wishing she had thought to put on a jacket. “No,” she said, sniffing. “It’s my brother’s pet.”

“That’s not a pet.”

“Take it up with him,” she said. “She’s sweet to me.”

Jaime looked like he wanted to argue more but stopped and took a breath. Brienne wasn’t sure if she trusted the smile he now wore. It looked ridiculous on him - almost as if he was wearing a fool’s motley. “Look,” he said. “I don’t want to be your enemy. We don’t have to be friends. I just want to present my case to your father. We truly need the money or else the dragon exhibit won’t happen. We’re a museum that runs on donations - the government doesn’t help and we don’t charge patrons more than a penny.”

“Why do you care so much?” she asked, still skeptical. “You don’t seem the type to care about old bones.”

His false smile turned into a rueful one. It made his entire face change. He actually looked more handsome, much to Brienne’s discomfort. “I didn’t think so either.”

“What changed?” she asked, hating herself for asking. But his smile...

“ _Me._ ”


End file.
